


Ice Melts Fire

by LionessGamer



Category: Keroro Gunsou | Sgt. Frog
Genre: BECHNOKID'S CHARACTERS, F/M, First Kiss, Hanana - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Yukiki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:29:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9304229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LionessGamer/pseuds/LionessGamer
Summary: Based Bechnokid's gijinka versions of the characters."One dream, will suffice a thousand nightmares." ― Anthony Liccione.In the mist of the terror and loss of her home, Hanana finds something far more precious in the comforting arms of one grumpy snowman assassin and he, in return, finds the courage. This is a three part one-shot.





	1. Six Days After

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bechnokid's Yukiki Tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/255854) by Bechnokid. 



> All my fanfics about Bechnokid’s versions of the characters take place in the universe of Wartime by StellarIce and Bechnokid found on Deviantart, but are not official fandom canon. That is Bechnokid’s call and my fanfics are simply my fanfics, my hopes and dreams.   
> This one also takes bits and pieces from Bloom by FableWing and Shurara Steampunk by BFG11, also on Deviantart, to help with backstory.  
> Characters belong to Bechnokid and by extension, Keroro Gunsu (Sgt. Frog).

 

**_ Part 1: Six Days After  _ **

_Heat. Unbearable heat._

_No air. Choking on fumes._

_Pain. Burning agony. Screaming. My voice._

_HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!_

Hanana jolted awake, barely stopping the scream that forced its way to her throat. She sat up in her bed, frantically looking about the room for danger. Relief spread through her at the absence of flames, but it soured at the unfamiliarity of the room. A reminder that the fire of her repeating nightmares wasn’t entirely just her mind torturing her.

Misery began to set in and Hanana drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them into a pitiful ball. Hanana yelped in pain, immediately withdrawing her arms. She sighed, tears beginning to run down her cheeks as she stared at the bandages all along her arms and legs. She lightly coughed, grimacing at the added pain of her scorched throat. More reminders of what had happened. Gingerly laying her arms at her sides, she let several more tears fall before cringing in pain at another cough. She found herself desperate for some water.

Carefully, she moved the covers aside and stood up from the bed. Walking across the nearly empty spare room that she now called home, she slowly opened the door to the lantern-filled hallways of the Shurara Mansion. Hoping she was going the right way, she quietly started her march to the mansion’s kitchen. Expecting a long walk through the quiet halls, she had nothing else to do but think, and her thoughts led her unwillingly to her most terrifying moment. She shivered violently as the memories sprang up before her eyes . . .

* * *

 

_Her eyes snapped open to an immense feeling of dread. Bolting upright, she looked about the room, hoping to see a peaceful, flowery room during a winter night. But her gaze was drawn to an unwarranted source of light in her bedroom. Horror shot through her veins at the sight of fire licking at her window from the outside. The smell of smoke was pungent in the air. She bolted from bed and ran for the door, knowing the house had to be on fire for flames to reach a second-story window. She hoped that didn’t mean her downstairs was engulfed, cutting off her main escape._

_Tearing open the door, she screamed at the sight. She could see flames spread up the stairs at the end of the hall, creeping ever close to her. Heat assaulted her even from here and the smoke billowed at her and clawed at her throat, sending her into a coughing fit. Her deep sleeping habit had just become an unexpectedly deadly part of her life. Terror held her, freezing her to the spot in a shaking mess of gasps and coughs._

_Briefly snapping out of it, she stumbled to the bathroom. She opened the door to make an escape through its window, but screamed again at the sight of another window engulfed in flames. In full panic, she slammed the door shut and darted for the activity room, her terror accelerating at being closer to the approaching flames. She ran into the room with tears in her burning eyes and a cough with every breath. She nearly collapsed at the sight of flames outside this window as well._

_Hanana spun around and sprinted back out of the room. She barely saved herself from burning her feet, finding the flames had reached the door frame. She backed away from the fire, desperately trying to think of a way out, but could think of none. All the ways out were burning. Tears ran in rivers down her face as the thought of her end here came to mind. Even if someone had noticed her house on fire, help had apparently not arrived yet. She heard no sirens, no yells or screams, nothing but the roar of the rapidly approaching fire._

_She slowly backed away, back towards her room in despair. But her movements came to a stop at the sound of a loud crack beneath her. She froze, deathly afraid before more cracking sounds joined the first._

_Then suddenly she was falling._

_Splintered and burning old wood cut at her skin as she fell through the charring floor into an inferno. She groaned in pain on impact with the living room floor. She then screamed at realizing she had landed in flames. She rolled away, screaming in agony as fire licked at her arms and legs. She pulled herself into a clear spot of the room, beating at the fire that spawned on her nightgown._

_Once put out, she curled up into a ball, sobbing at her pain and the scene before her. Fire surrounded her on all sides, eating away at her walls and furniture like a gluttonous monster. She saw through the black haze of smoke her cherished pictures and beloved plants scorched to ashes, along with everything she ever owned. She coughed again and again, clean air becoming harder and harder to find amongst the black smoke. Her lungs burned and her skin screamed. The heat gave off the impression of hell._

_“HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!” She couldn’t resist yelling for help, having a flicker of hope in her panic that someone would somehow hear._

_“PLEASE! HELP ME! MY HOUSE IS--” Her sentence came to a stop at the arrival of a frenzy of hard coughs as more of the ceiling collapsed around her. Her lungs screamed of air, but only received life-stealing smoke. In between her coughs, she listened for a reply, praying for an answering voice above of the cracking of the fire._

_She heard nothing but hell._

_She blinked her stinging eyes, trying to clear them as tears rolling out to evaporate quickly in the heat. The nearly blinding light of the inferno was going dark around the edges of her vision as she gasped for breath. She slumped against the wall, finding her burned limbs heavy and weak. She was finding it hard to keep her eyes open to watch for approaching flames. She could barely breathe and she could hardly move. The flames were coming closer, like a predator ready to deliver the final blow. She closed her eyes, struggling just to breathe through her weak coughs._

_Suddenly, fresh cold air blasted into her, providing relief to her dry lungs and boiling skin. She managed to open her eyes and caught a few glimpses of what followed._

_All the windows shattered all at once, a furious wind entering with a storm of cold, white flurries. The force of it blew her hair back and its icy chill soothed her. The flames seemed to flee from the wind’s chilling power, snow consuming and covering the spots of fire. The sound of something hard hitting wood echoed over the retreating roar of fire. The sound echoed once more with a cracking, then a third quickly followed with the sound of something breaking and shattering._

_She fought to keep her eyes open, to stay awake, but the dark was pulling her down. She opened them enough to see through blurry vision some flames that the snowy wind had yet to extinguish. It was getting dangerously close to her, spreading over the carpet towards her._

_She heard a sound. A familiar noise. A baritone word._

_Then the stalking fire was gone in a flash of blue light, leaving nothing but glistening spikes of cold._

_Her awareness was going. She could only make out very few dim details. Some dark clothing, a deep voice speaking urgently, and a cold feeling wrapping around her. Her eyes closed, unable to open again. She heard groaning and cracking and then a thunderous crash. She let out a wheezing breath before she couldn’t fight it anymore._

_The dark took her as the world seemed to crash down around her._

* * *

 

She woke up in the hospital late into the next day under her friend Pururu’s care, with Kagege seating next to her bed. She had 3rd degree burns on her arms and leg. First degree burns covered her other leg. Her hair was singed, she was covered in cuts and bruises, and her lungs were lightly scorched. But she was alive. Alive and very lucky, according to Pururu. It could have been much worse.

After awakening, she was overjoyed when nearly the whole corps came to visit her when they could escape notice. Putata and Mekeke tried to visit her constantly, fussing over her and trying to keep her entertained until her release.

Nuii stayed with her nearly the whole time, acting as a normal doll when doctors and nurses came in. Gyororo tried to stay with Nuii as much as he could, but his boredom would get the best of him and he would sneak back out to God knows where. But he would always come back for Nuii.

Dokuku visited twice, phasing into the hospital and going invisible around strangers. He also fussed over her injuries and managed to convey a “get well” message from Giruru and Robobo.

Kagege was a frequent visitor, arriving through the shadows to check on her and to give her news about the corps and her house. It was through him, and some animated descriptions from Putata and Mekeke, that she learned what had happened.

Apparently, she was very lucky indeed. If a certain corps member hadn’t decided to take a midnight stroll close to her house and seen the light of fire, she would very likely be dead. She was also fortunate that winter had set in, to which this certain corps member was at his strongest and able to fight through the fire.

Hanana was very grateful, but concerned to find out that Yukiki had been her savior. Her concern spawned from the fact that she hadn’t seen him around at all and she feared that he might have been hurt on her behalf, given he was a snowman amongst fire.

She was assured that Yukiki was fine, despite barely getting them out in time to avoid the whole house collapsing on top of them. He had immediately rushed her into Pururu’s care, alerting the whole corps while doing so. She was surprised to learn that he stayed with her the ENTIRE time she was unconscious, a total of 15 hours never setting foot outside her hospital room.

From what she was told, Yukiki left a mere hour before she woke up to respond to the information gathered from an investigation of her house.

Shortly after Hanana was admitted into the hospital, Yukiki had called in a favor from Samama and had her search the remains of her house. From what she was told, Samama had been pretty aggravated to have been woken up in the middle of the night, but had immediately accepted the task upon hearing what had happened to Hanana.

The firefighters were reportedly there when Samama arrived, putting out the last of the fire and searching the rubble for Hanana’s remains, since no one else had any clue she had been rescued.

“Better late than never.” Putata had commented disdainfully.

Samama luckily had friends and a past in the firefighting force and had no problem investigating alongside them.

To Hanana’s dismay, her home was completely destroyed, despite Yukiki’s frontal attack putting out a good portion of the fire. The home was old, its wooden structure weakened with age and past instances of termites. This proved to be a big help in its quick destruction to fire. The whole house was burnt to ash and rubble, but Samama had an eye for details on a fire’s origin. She was the one who confirmed that the fire was no accident. Fires had been started outside every exit, both windows and doors with plenty of fuel to burn high and long even in the stormy, winter weather. Someone was trying to make sure she didn’t escape.

Everyone knew immediately that it had to be an enemy of the corps. No one else would have a reason to kill Hanana, being the kind-hearted and respected person she was. Someone knew how close she was to the corps and was vengeful enough to murder their dearest friend.

It was this news to which Yukiki had left in a hurry, but not without making it clear that at least one corps member had to be with her at all times. Hanana had been flattered by the protective gesture and had looked forward to thanking him for saving her life.

But with each day that passed, he never returned, never visited her. She would ask again and again where he was to every visiting corps member, but every person had a disappointing answer. Many times they didn’t know where he was. Other times they mentioned seeing him but very briefly. Kagege managed to catch him the day before she left the hospital and tried to get him to see her. Kagege refused to tell her their conversation, but left it at that he had fled with the wind.

“Like a coward.” Kagege had seethed, surprising Hanana with his uncharacteristic, silent rage.

She didn’t see him until she got out of the hospital. Putata and Mekeke had taken her to the mansion, where she would stay under the corps’ watch. Dokuku had somehow provided an extra bed and furniture in one of the empty spare rooms for her to stay in. Her escorts were leading her there, helping her keep balance on her aching legs, when she saw him.

They had just entered through the front doors into the parlor and there he was, leaning against the wall by one of the hallways. The rim of his top hat covered his eyes and his arms were crossed. She stopped and opened her mouth to call to him, happy to finally see him.

He lifted his head and their eyes met. She froze in place. She prided herself on reading people and being able to tell what they were really feeling. It was useful in helping friends and even complete strangers through hard times. Yukiki had been no exception, even though he could be difficult to read.

On this day, she found his face completely and carefully blank and his eyes dark and guarded. A mask she could not see past. He was studying her, that much she could tell. But to what end and how he felt about what he saw, she did not know.

They stared at each other, Hanana barely aware of Putata and Mekeke standing nervously off to the side. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like years.

Finally, he broke eye contact and push off the wall. She half-hoped he would approach her, but she watched in dismay as he turned around and disappeared around the corner without a word.

“Yukiki wait!” Hanana called out to him, but he did not answer nor reappear. She made an attempt to chase after him, but only got a few feet before collapsing from her weakened legs. She felt miserable at that moment. Yukiki was avoiding her, she could tell. He hadn’t done that in a long time, the last being several months after meeting him.

He had been cold and distant to everyone then. The other members would tread carefully around him, being the kind of careful one would reserve for a cornered predator.  She had heard that in his first days among the assassins, he nearly killed Putata and Mekeke over a supposed accidental dog bite. He gave out death threats and deadly glares on a daily basis. The others regarded him like a landmine, an effective weapon for their cause but an object you personally didn’t want to be close to and accidently set off.

But while they saw an emotionless killing machine, Hanana saw something else. She saw someone who didn’t know or had forgotten the better things in life. He didn’t understand that there was more out there then what he thought there was.

She saw him as lost and alone. And she was determined to change that.

So shortly after meeting him, she began to approach him, even after multiple warnings from her friends. She would try to talk to him, gently but determinedly inviting him into group outings or a visit to her house. Sometimes to just talk.

For a long time, he just ignored her or glared at her and told her a clear and final no. She tried again and again to get him to open up and many began to fear he would eventually retaliate to her poking. To be honest, some encounters made Hanana fear the same. But at those times, she would push down her fear and continue trying, something telling her that he wouldn’t hurt her. And fortunately for her, he made no attempt at violence towards her, a rare thing for anyone else at the time. His only retaliation was his decision to actively avoid her at all costs. To the point of not seeing him for weeks at a time despite the mansion basically becoming her second home with all her visits.

Then finally, after those weeks of searching, chasing and asking, Yukiki accepted her invitation to taste test some cake at her home. She had been saddened when she learned he couldn’t taste, but she was a bit astonished when he tried to make it up to her by saying he could enjoy the texture, a small sign he was finally showing a softer side. That day had gone well in her opinion. Having never eaten cake before, Hanana was excited to introduce him to her strawberry shortcake. She had been delighted to see a look of content spread across Yukiki’s face at the first bite, even after he quickly hid it.

He eat several pieces before they drifted into a steady, if not slightly awkward, conversation. They had walked around her modest house on a small tour until Yukiki took an interest in her small piano. She saw a real smile on his face when she was showing him how to play. She found herself thinking of how handsome he looked smiling contently like that. The dark, brooding behavior seemed to be melting away already.

But then something happened. He suddenly looked confused, then frustrated, before abruptly jolting up from the piano bench and hurrying for the door. He had nearly left, saying only that it was all a mistake, if Hanana hadn’t chased him down and begged him not to leave. She thought she had done something wrong. It had almost been the end of it, but he stopped and, to her surprise, he asked if he could visit again. Hanana quickly agreed.

Ever since then, the both of them spent more and more time together. Eating cake and taking walks became an enjoyable pastime for them. They would talk about all sorts of things, most of time Hanana bringing them up. As time passed, his attempts at conservation with her went from awkward and guarded to friendly and curious. They got to know each other and Hanana found herself blessed that he was letting her in.

His relationship with his teammates also greatly improved, proof of her breakthrough. When before he would be silent and extremely anti-social, he now joined in on group discussions and activities. He still remained strict and intimidating, but toned it down enough towards his fellow assassins for them to have a chance to actually come up and talk to him.

They were, at first, astonished at Yukiki’s growing tolerate behavior and most had been nervous at first on approaching him, corps member or otherwise. But once again, with time and Hanana’s coaxing, their view of Yukiki became that of a friend and comrade more than a wild animal. In a little over a year’s time, Yukiki’s mannerisms and status amongst the others had drastically changed for the better. And Hanana couldn’t be happier for him.

And with his change, other relationships seemed to do the same. Over countless misadventures and memorable moments, the corps, along with their few allies, seemed to grow closer together. Now, over two years after the start of her friendship with the assassins, they had become one big, dysfunctional family, to put it in Mekeke’s terms. A family of caring friends is how Hanana saw them and she was very thankful to be a part of it.

Which is why it hurt so much to see Yukiki turn away from her like that. She had come to know Yukiki well over the years and he had become a close friend of hers. But still he kept certain parts of himself a secret from everyone. She couldn’t understand why he never came to visit her after she woke up or why he had walked away without a word. She had worked hard to uncover the man she had glimpsed in the cold killer time ago and now she was beginning to think he was receding back in. 

Did she do something wrong?

Was he angry at her? Maybe . . . disappointed?

Putata and Mekeke gently helped her back to her feet and led her away, taking her up the grand staircase to the 3rd floor to the room prepared for her. The whole way up she stared at the floor, asking her friends again and again what could be wrong and if it were her fault. They ensured her again and again that she did nothing wrong, telling her Yukiki was just stressed over work and the mystery with the fire.

Once they had shown her to her room and told her where to find theirs, Putata and Mekeke reluctantly left her to her thoughts.

The room was smaller than her bedroom had been. For now, it contained nothing more than a plain twin bed, a wooden side table and lamp, and a simple desk and chair in the corner. It was here, sitting on the bed in the dull white room, that everything finally hit her.

She had lost everything. Her home. Her belongings. Her plants. Everything she had. Everything she had left of her parents. The clothes she was wearing weren’t even hers, barrowed from Samama when the hospital released her. She was homeless and nearly penniless. All those childhood memories in that house. All those happy days. They were all gone because someone thought it a good idea to destroy such a lovely home with her in it when she had done nothing wrong.

And now, her and Yukiki’s friendship was in question.

She broke down. She didn’t know how long she sobbed into her hands, since there was no clock in the room, but she felt like she would never stop. Eventually however, the tears did begin to run dry and her sobs became soft sniffs. But still the dark thoughts and a heavy heart remained.

A knock on the door signaled that Kagege had come to take her downstairs for dinner. She quickly cleaned herself up the best she could and met the Shadow Assassin at the door. She knew immediately that Kagege could tell she had been crying. She was certain it was because her eyes were red. She was grateful to him when he didn’t comment on it and politely requested to escort her to dinner. She walked with him to the dining hall and joined the others for the meal. Everyone there offered her comfort and tried their best to lighten her mood. Even Giruru gave her a reassuring word or two and her old crush on him caused her to blush a bit. Robobo also show up to dinner, a real rarity, to offer his services in any way he could to make her feel more at home.

She later left dinner feeling loved, yet strangely abandoned. Everyone had offered their support . . . except Yukiki. He hadn’t come to dinner at all and no one knew where he was. He truly was avoiding her.

She went to bed that night in that blank room feeling immensely upset, despite her friends’ caring actions.

She went to sleep crying and awoke screaming. Even put out, the flames were still burning her.

Hanana broke from her thoughts and memories as she finally arrived in the mansion’s kitchen. It was a large kitchen, typical of a manor. Hanana could easily imagine several chefs and their crew cooking giant feasts in this place. Since only the hallways’ lanterns were lit at night, she walked carefully through the darkness around the kitchen to the cabinets. After retrieving a glass and filling it with water, she made her way out of the kitchen and into the dining room. She walked through the dark of the room, past the long table and chairs, and into the sitting room. This room had comfortable couches and grand chairs, and a bullet-proof glass wall provided a lovely view of the land surrounding the mansion. A good place to relax and think.

She stepped into the entryway and looked around the room, the glass of water held tightly in her hands.

And she nearly dropped it when she saw she wasn’t alone.

A few candles lightened the area in front of the window, effectively revealing the room’s occupant. Sitting in a one of the chairs in front of the window, smoking a pipe and watching the snow fall outside, was Yukiki.

* * *

 

At first, she didn’t know what to do. But she quickly recovered, knowing that this was her chance to ask him why he was avoiding her. She straightened her posture and, with determination, stepped forward to accomplish her goal.

Only, she had gotten a total of two steps before Yukiki’s head slowly turned to her. His expression was one of aggravation, but upon sight of her quickly turned into surprise. She immediately got the impression that he had known all along that someone was there, but not who. She should have known, given how sharp his hearing was. He probably heard her while she was in the kitchen.

They stared at each other, both completely still and unsure what to do or say.

At last, Yukiki made a move. He lowered his pipe, which he had been removing from his mouth when he spotted her. Without looking away from her, he carefully set it on the side table next to his hat and stood from his seat. Once again, they did nothing but stare. Then, Yukiki broke the silence, his expression taking on a seriousness she would see on the faces of parents scorning their children.

“You’re awake.” Hanana would have playfully rolled her eyes on a normal day, or night in this case. But now, she just felt unsure and nervous. Cautiously, she took a few steps toward him, his dimly glowing eyes watching her approach.

“I . . . I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. I came down to get some water.” She held the glass up a little higher to prove it. His eyes briefly darted to the glass before returning to her, their depths hard and concealing. She shivered. She hadn’t seen him look at her like that in a long time.

“So it seems.” Hanana could almost physically feel the tension coming off of him, seemingly overwhelming her own. She had no idea why it was there, but she had to stop it. Such tension should not exist between them.

“Yes. I came here to sit down and think. Watch the snow outside. I’m not . . . used . . . to my room yet.” Hanana gave him the best smile she could at the moment. He eyed her suspiciously and Hanana couldn’t help but feel hurt. Where had all the friendliness and trust between them gone? What had happened to make him act this way?

He studied her a few seconds more before turning away.  He grabbed his pipe, dumped its contents into the table’s ash tray, and then placed it in his coat pocket. After retrieving his hat and securing it on his head, he turned back to her. She held her breath as he approached her, his pace even and precise. She watched with round eyes as he reached her . . . and walked straight past her.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Something snapped inside her at his dismissive tone. She spun around to face his retreating form, which was rapidly blending into the darkness. Immediately, her tears once again made an appearance in force.

“YUKIKI STOP IT!!” Her shout echoed through the room and out into the connecting halls. Yukiki froze in his tracks, completely taken off guard by her loud outburst.

Hanana glared at the back of his dark coat, her tears cascading down to the floor as her breathing sped up. Her body was shaking with the whirlwind of emotions raging inside her. She didn’t even notice that she had flung her arms down to her sides, clutching the now empty glass. With a scratchy voice of ravaged lungs and a sandpaper throat, she continued.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did wrong! I’ll do anything to make it up to you! Just . . . just stop ignoring me please! Stop acting like you don’t care anymore!” She was nearly losing it. Everything that had happened was crushing her. The murder attempt. The fire that took her home. The near constant ache of her wounds. The nightmares every night. And now the wall Yukiki was putting up between them.

For a girl who had lived a relatively peaceful and happy life, it was becoming too much.

She collapsed, falling to her knees before Yukiki’s unmoving form. She stared at his back a moment more, willing him to turn around. When he remained as still as stone, a painful ping shot through her heart. Her throat protested to the sobs forming, but she was powerless to stop them. Instantly, her hands were catching her tears as she sobbed into them.

“Please. . .” she whimpered, “. . . I don’t want to lose anything else.” She sat there on the decorative carpet, wallowing in her misery. She couldn’t care less how pitiful she was being right now. She just didn’t know what to do anymore. She just wanted all of this to be one, big nightmare that she would wake up from, in her childhood home with all friendships still strong and intact.

She gasped when the still air around her shifted.

She suddenly found herself held tightly against a firm chest, cold arms wrapping around her protectively. Her face, after lowering her hands in shock, was pressed into a blue scarf, his scent of winter forests and tobacco smoke oddly calming to her. She sniffed woefully as she buried her face in the scarf and fisted her hands into his coat. He pulled her closer, nearly into his lap as he sat on the floor next to her.

Calming down, she let her slowing stream of tears wet the snowman’s neck scarf and her sobs weaken into hiccups. She felt Yukiki hesitantly lay his cheek on the top of her head and when he spoke she could feel the rumble of his voice.

“I’m sorry.” The cold Yukiki from seconds ago had seemingly vanished. No longer was his voice hard or emotionless. Now it was filled with such regret and shame that it startled her. She stared into his scarf in shock, having never heard him take on such a sorrowful tone. On instinct, she wiggled her arms out from between their chests and wrapped them around him, ignoring the protests of her burns. He stiffened for moment, then quickly relaxed into her timid embrace.

“F-For what?” At her question, his hold on her tightened even further. She couldn’t help the light blush forming from their closeness, even with her emotions still on the negative side.

“For avoiding you. For making you so upset.” Gently, he released his tight hold and pushed her away enough to look her in the eyes. There, she saw all coldness gone and in its place was an almost pleading expression. His mouth was set in a deep frown and his eyes searched hers with a similarity of a kicked puppy begging for forgiveness and comfort. The look was so strange on him, but she felt her heart break for him all the same.

“I . . .” He took a breath, “. . . I think . . . I mean I thought . . . it would be best if I distanced myself from you, after what happened.” He lowered eyes.

“I told you that being friends with us would get you killed.” In an almost ashamed manner, he slowly began to separate himself from her.

Fear shot through her at even the slightest notion of him leaving, even of ending the comfort she found in his arms. Quick as a snake, he barely had time to move before she lunged at him, one hand grabbing his arm and the other landing on his cheek in an attempt to get him to look at her again. She needed know what was wrong. She needed him to stay.

And it did the trick. His attempt at retreat was halted at her touch and his blue eyes snapped back to her pink ones in complete shock. Even in the dim light of the candles she could see a bright blush alighting on his face, a fact she put aside.

She focused on his eyes, trying to convey through her own her thoughts and emotions. She wanted him to know that she needed him here and that she wanted to help him with whatever was wrong. She knew he would see it, he knew the art of reading eyes for hidden agendas.

Slowly, she gave his cheek a small caress with her thumb. He reacted with a flinch, which caused one of her own.

“Why?” She nearly whispered the word. At the question, Yukiki acquired an almost pained look, like he had been dreading it. He lifted his hand and placed it on top of her own that held his cheek. Very carefully, like he was handling something fragile, he lifted her hand off his face and lowered it to the carpet. He gave her a hopeless look.

“I . . . I knew who was behind the fire.”  Hanana nearly choked on her quick intake of breath. Her eyes were wide and her mouth worked to speak but couldn’t get a sound out. After several failed attempts, Yukiki answered the unspoken question.

"But don't worry about him. He will not be bothering anyone ever again." His lips pulled back into a hateful snarl while Hanana's mouth dropped on horror. The snowman saw her expression and his fell into a depressed seriousness.

“We’re assassins, Hanana. It’s our job to kill. Besides, he was an escaped contract . . . and the bastard deserved far worse than what I gave him.” Hanana brought her hands to her chest as Yukiki looked away.

“No one deserves to die . . .” Her voice was barely a whisper, but Yukiki caught it. He barked out a tired chuckle.

“Everyone dies. Some simply deserve to die sooner . . . more painfully. A good portion of our targets are these scum of the earth, and trust me on this, that man had been wreaking havoc for years, murdering and raping his way to power with a smile on his face. I took the tip on his whereabouts the moment I had it.” He glanced back up at her with rage in his eyes, a frequent emotion for him.

 “He still had that smile when I found him. And he made the grave mistake of bragging, thinking he had succeeded in killing you.” His teeth were bared, fists clutched against the rug, and his eyes were starting to glow a fierce blue. Despite her earlier terror of Yukiki’s deed, she reached forward carefully to hug him again, hoping to calm him out of his growing rage. As expected, he gradually relaxed against her.

“I’m sorry it upsets you, but I couldn’t allow him to live. The attempt on you was far from his first murder attempt and he had no quarrels trying again and killing more in the future. It’s one less serial killer on the loose.” He hugged her back as he explained and they stayed that way for a while, silent in their thoughts. The man finally sighed, slowly getting to his feet.

“Come now. Let’s get up off the floor and take a proper seat.” He pulled her up from him and walked her over to the couch facing the large fireplace. Hanana slowly sat down on the plush seat, a bit of uncertainty about her. Uncertainty began to creep into Yukiki as well, as he tried to think of what to do next. He watched as Hanana’s arms moved to wrap around herself, concerning him.

“Would you like for me to light a fire?” He gestured to the fireplace.

Thinking she must be cold from contact with him, he thought it was a reasonable question. But he realized too late his mistake as she tensed and she shook her head fiercely in panic.

“NO!” Yukiki took a step back as she yelled her answer at him, her body starting to shake. Her eyes started to become distant and breathing grew faster as she stared at the fireplace. Yukiki knew what that meant and quickly knelled in front of her and grabbed her shoulders, blocking her view of the health.

“It’s alright, Hanana. It’s alright. I won’t start one. You’re safe, please calm yourself.” He stared straight into her terrified eyes, lightly squeezing her shoulders to keep her in reality. She stared back, her eyes clearing as she pushed back the horrible memories. Yukiki mentally cursed himself for not making his most recent victim’s demise all-the-more agonizing.

That scumbag. Hanana should never have to suffer through PTSD. He made a mental note to talk to Pururu about that. Maybe Kagege as well. He seemed to have a knack for counseling.

“T-Thank *cough* you. I’m sorry for yelling. I just *cough* don’t want . . . to be near one for a while *cough*.” Yukiki nodded understandingly as he concerned over her, her coughing continuing as he looked on. Her fast breathing had irritated her dry throat, producing a persistent coughing fit. He stood up and looked over the couch to the empty glass laying on the floor, a dark splatter disrupting the carpet’s pattern near it. Guilt made its way back to him. He lightly shook her shoulder to get her attention.

“I’m going to get you another glass of water. I’ll be right back.” He turned away from her to retrieve the abandoned glass. His hand had only been off her shoulders of a few seconds before she lunged forward, catching his hand in both hands and holding on tightly. He looked back at her surprised and she stared back pleadingly.

“Don’t leave . . .” Yukiki felt what he could only describe as chips of ice breaking off his heart at her desperate whisper. The fire must have traumatized her so badly and trying to distance himself from her had only made it worse. Smiling softly, he moved her hands so that they were completely encased in his larger ones.

“I’m just going to get some water for you. I’ll be right back. I promise.” Looking into his eyes, she saw nothing but concern and honesty. Berating herself on being so childish, she cautiously removed her hands from his grasp, an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.

“Yes . . . um *cough* . . . thank you.” Her eyes bore holes in the carpet as Yukiki waited a moment to gage her posture. Watching her reaction carefully, he cautiously rounded the couch to retrieve the abandoned glass, then retreated into the dining hall.

Listening to fading footfalls of his boots, Hanana was left alone to her thoughts. She gently hugged herself, thinking over what she had just learned.

She didn’t find it hard to believe that Yukiki had killed someone; nearly every Corps member had at one point or another. Even though she had worked to lead them away from this career, she had accepted some time ago that they would always be killers, some more than others. No matter how friendly and understanding they were, they would always have an ease for killing. And shamefully she would admit, she found it a relief that almost all their targets were fellow killers and corrupted politicians. She made it her mission to interfere as much as possible with the few orders that required the death of someone she found undeserving of such, like those of that Kerero man and his subordinates. She found out recently from Mekeke that the only reason Yukiki hadn’t killed him yet was because Hanana herself asked him not to back when she had been accidently dragged into a mission. The puppeteer had smugly commented that she must have him completely whipped if he refrained from “roughing up Kerero too badly,” given the snowman’s obvious hate of the green-haired man.

Hanana had blushed the comment away and replied that it was simply Yukiki finally finding mercy a valuable attribute. Now, having found him quick to forget all mercy and kill for her safety, she may have to rethink her own point. And rethink who her friend really was. But despite the current frequent image of a ruthless killer, she couldn’t ignore the images of Yukiki as what he was to her: a protective friend and a determined comrade. He wasn’t just a killer, none of the corps were. They were friends, family, people who you could laugh with and talk with and trust with your life. He was both the man he was when he first met her and he was the man she had seen inside all those years ago when no one else would dare approach him. He couldn’t be the Yukiki she cared so much about without both sides of himself. She suspected none of the corps could be who they were without their darker sides.

She sighed at her thoughts, coughing a bit more from the exhale. It was just something she had to accept and maybe weaken if she could. They were really good people. They just had made a poor career choice in her opinion. And as she thought about it, were they not at least similar to the soldiers that society praised for their bravery and willingness to kill and risk death for their people?

Yukiki was good person in defending her. To be honest, she couldn’t find any fear or anger towards Yukiki’s actions. He had point. If he was telling the truth, which she did not doubt, he had taken a cruel man off the streets, benefiting both her life and the lives of future victims. He was technically a hero in this situation and the thought brought a sense of pride and affection to her heart, despite the sin of the deed.

She smiled weakly. He only sought to protect her, and in the process likely saved others.

If there was anything to forgive, she found herself already forgiving him. And her previous fear was already long gone. A memory of catching the snowman in a snowball fight with Putata and Mekeke came to the surface at the thought. Her smile strengthened at the memory. She could never truly be afraid of him, not her Yukiki. Even as a skilled assassin, he would never hurt those he cared about, nor those he found truly innocent. Not anymore at least. He had long since learned that there was in fact value to the lives around him.

The reappearance of footsteps to her ears jerked her out of her thoughts. She turned her head to the right to watch Yukiki emerge from the darkness of the dining hall entranceway, full glass in hand.

“Here.” She gratefully took the glass the moment he offered, desperate for it as she became well aware of her burning throat and dry tongue. She drank nearly the whole drink, enjoying the satisfaction of relieving one of her pains. Yukiki watched her, satisfied by her look of contentment as she finally lowered her drink. She smiled at him.

“Thank you.” She put the glass on the table as Yukiki moved closer.

“You’re welcome. Now . . .” He eyed her as she let out a small yawn, noting her drooping eyes, the dark rings under them, and her slightly slouched posture.

“We should be getting you back to bed. You look exhausted.” At his concerned observation, her body stiffened, the thoughts of nightmares and empty rooms quickly sending her into a panic. She shook her head in response, trying to hide her fear.

“C-C-Can we stay here f-for a little longer? I . . . don’t want to sleep just yet.” It was a bad attempt at covering her fear and Yukiki’s expression proved it. He sat down beside her carefully.

“Hanana, what’s wrong?” She avoided his eyes, facing away from him. She didn’t want him to see how scared she had gotten. Yukiki wasn’t having it. With determination, he placed a hand on her cheek and turned her head back to him. The strength of his hold gave her no choice but to witness the seriousness of his gaze.

“Hanana.” Her name didn’t come out as a growl, but it was close. A warning to her that he wasn’t going to let her out of this until she gave him the truth. And that he would know if she lied. Her body slumped in defeat and she could feel a familiar itch in her eyes as she leaned into his gloved palm. She avoided his eyes, staring at the chest of his coat as she confessed.

“I . . . I have nightmares.” She saw his chin enter her vision, indicating that he had nodded.

“I figured as much. For how long?” She grimaced.

“Every night since . . .” She shut her eyes, hoping the tears she felt behind her eyes didn’t decide to make another appearance. The pain of her burns had been slowly building since she woke up and the pain was only encouragement for her nightmarish memories.

“I’m always in my room. Surrounded by fire. And . . . and the flames always reach me a-and I-I-I start burning! And then I wake up.” The tears she hoped would stay put betrayed her and streamed down her face. She sniffed woefully as she became more and more aware for the burning of her arms and legs.

“A-And I never wake up in my room, in my home with everything intact. Now I wake up to an empty room with my burns aching. It shouldn’t be a big deal but . . . but it is! It’s just all gone!” As she fell silent, she finally became aware that at some point in her distress she had collapsed against Yukiki. He was doing his best to comfort her, holding her tightly as he shushed her gently. She once again found herself drying her tears in his scarf. His voice proved a huge comfort as he spoke.

“Ssssshhhh, Hanana. It will be okay. Your room won’t be empty for long. I’m sure the others will be more than happy to help you. Putata and Mekeke I’m sure will be eager to take you shopping.” At the last comment, he was thankful to hear a half-hearted giggle through her whimpers. He didn’t entirely understand why her new room bothered her so much, but he tried his best to cheer her up. He continued as he gently stroked her back.

“And once things have settled down and your burns are gone, we can make plans on rebuilding your home if you like. Or at least help you purchase another . . . likely closer to the mansion.” She remained silent for a moment, but she soon weakly nodded against his chest. She stopped clinging to his coat and shifted her arms to hug him tightly, her tears fading away.

“T-That would be nice.” He nodded, encouraged by her response. However, he hesitated before speaking again, a bit uncertain.

“And the nightmares will fade in time. But for tonight, why don’t you sleep here? I’ve already gotten my share of sleep today and I’ve heard that not sleeping alone helps prevent nightmares. . . . And should they return, I’ll be here to wake you.” Hanana didn’t want he keep him all night, but she was too drained to protest and instead nodded weakly. They stayed that way for a while. Hanana completely relaxed into his embrace and her sadness slowly faded as drowsiness made itself known to her. His words had soothed her thoughts. And the pain of her burns that kept her awake had started to lessen.

But why? Curious, she concentrated on her wounds and confirmed that some of the burns were going numb, those that were pressed against Yukiki. Already half-asleep and desperate to relieve the last of her pain, she pressed herself to him, her arms searching for the coldest spots and her legs tangling themselves with his. To her relief, the cold was proving strong enough to seep through her bandages and very slowly act as a pain reliever. With pain no longer being a block to sleep, she cuddled against him, intent on doing so.

Until she heard him stutter and noticed how rigid his body had gone.

“H-H-Hanana?” At his VERY nervous voice, her eyes snapped open, it finally hitting her what exactly she was doing. She threw herself off of him, wide awake and mortified by how she had come just short of groping him. His face was beet red and so was hers. She hide her face in her hands.

“I AM. SO. SORRY! I-I just . . . you . . . I mean, the cold, it . . . um . . . it-it made m-my burns stop aching and I . . . Oh, I didn’t mean to . . . oh god.” She sat on the far end of the couch, nearly shaking with complete humiliation. All she could hear was silence, not even breathing, and it scared her. Did he leave?

She moved her hands slightly to check and was in time to witness Yukiki stand up quickly. The fear of him leaving tripled and her hands darted away from her face and prepared to grab him.

But she froze, completely confused, as instead he took off his hat and set it on the arm of the couch. His scarf and gloves soon followed. With a still obvious blush and a stubborn glare, he proceeded to unbutton his coat. Hanana finally found her voice as he reached the last button.

“Y-Yu-Yuki? What are you d-doing?” He didn’t answer her nor did he look her way, merely proceeding to almost violently shrug off his coat with a huff. Before she could react, he stood directly in front of her, draping his heavy coat around her shoulders. A nervous wreck of confusion, she stiffen at the touch of the chilled fabric, not at all sure what to do or what he was doing. Robotically, her hands grabbed the edges of the coat, pulling it tighter around her. Already, her body heat was warming the thick cloth.

She opened her mouth to try a feeble attempt to ask her question again, but he had already moved away from her. She watched as he sat back down in his seat, but did not lean back into it. Finally, he looked her in the eyes. His face was still in a stubborn stoic mold, but his eyes were swimming with all sorts of emotions. He turned away from her again, his blush growing as he made his next move.

He turned his body slightly towards her and lifted his arms.

Hanana could only stare. In her tangled state of mind, it took a few moments for her to realize what he was offering. And when she did, her blush grew as her heart warmed. She was still nervous about boundaries, but she wasn’t going to refuse the offer, not with the burning starting to come back.

Slowly, she slid across the couch and timidly wrapped her arms around his torso. Once in position, he lowered his arms, one wrapping around her shoulders and the other along the bandages of her right arm. He then slowly leaned back against the couch, trapping her left arm between his back and the couch. He did nothing as Hanana cautiously wound her burning legs around his frigid own. When all was said and done, Hanana sighed in relief as his temperature, now stronger with the removal of a layer of clothing, began to sooth her pains once more. His legs tended to her legs while his arm and torso dealt with her arms. And his coat acted as a blanket to keep her from getting too cold.

She felt her heart swell at kind act. Despite his obvious discomfort, he had offered his body’s chill to help ease her pain. And she had learned immediately upon meeting him that he wasn’t one for being touched by anyone. That fact had not changed much over the years. He also rarely gave out words of comfort, becoming aloof and quick to make an exit when someone presented signs of becoming emotional in any way. But tonight, a stranger would have never guessed that from all the embraces and comforting words he had given her. He had gone against his own nature to comfort her and numb her pains. He had even been thoughtful enough to give her his coat as a blanket, just to keep his own cold from becoming too much for her.

Tears came to her eyes, but they were not of sadness. She buried her face in his vest, breathing in that ever comforting scent. At a time like this, it was hard to see him as a ruthless killer. All she could see in this moment was the caring man who had crossed his own personal boundaries to help her and offer solutions to her silly fears. The man who ate cake with her and went on walks with her. The one who saved her life and protected her on more than one dangerous occasion.

Oh, how she loved this ma—

Wait. What?

Her eyes snapped back open and her blush deepened even further. Her heart skipped a beat at the realization of just how fondly she was thinking about him.

Was . . . was she? Was she falling in love with him?

At first, she denied it, berating herself for jumping to conclusions. Sure, she had had a small crush on him, but . . .

His hold on her tightened and he leaned into her.

“Are you alright?” His worried voice sounded above her.

And just like that, she felt herself start to melt. Okay, maybe she was starting to fall. Hard.

But what would falling in love again lead to?

She flinched, remembering what had happened with Giruru. It had been devastating to finally come to terms that he had no interest in her. She had moved on, sure, and she and Giruru were friends to an extent, but it had still been painful.

Much like Giruru, she had never seen Yukiki show any interest in anyone and being romantic didn’t seem to be in his character. He had become a good friend to her and others, but he still tended to be reclusive, only dealing with unfamiliars when the need was dire or he was given no choice.

The stature of a stoic, lone wolf he still maintained, preventing her from seeing him being that close with anyone. And with what she had observed and heard from others about him, she wasn’t sure if he knew what being in love meant. Did he even know how?

This may become even worse than the Giruru situation.

Could she really afford to fall for another untouchable man?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Yukiki’s hand lifting her chin up to meet her eyes to his. They were filled with concern, of course, and a pinch of nervousness. His mouth was set in a frown, deeper than usual.

And despite it being the worried face of a living snowman, she had always found him handsome no matter the expression. And his blue eyes had always been the best part, even when glowing with fearsome power.

She didn’t think it was possible to blush as much as she was tonight. Where had all these thoughts and feelings suddenly come from?

“Hanana?” And his voice was a bonus to her nearly spontaneous lovesickness. Putata and Mekeke had teased him with the nickname “old man” for his grumpy attitude and his older sounding voice. Hanana had never understood the second part. His voice was normal in her opinion, at least when he wasn’t enraged; then it morphed into an otherworldly growl that strangely echoed. Yes, it sounded a bit older than how he appeared, but she thought it only added to the old-fashioned style of him. It was a deep baritone sound, spoken smoothly with the occasion of a gravel or rumble. It sounded aged, but had the flow and strength of someone in their prime, if that made any sense.

She liked the sound of his voice and she was now finding it hard to not change ‘like’ to ‘love.’

She sighed, giving up. It seemed that realizing that she had feelings for him had set her on a downhill sloop. She could try distancing herself from him, but she knew she could never bring herself to do that. Already, she was too far in.

With all he had done tonight, he had finally tipped her over the edge she never saw coming and now she was falling.

She had always known that love worked in mysterious ways. Maybe . . . maybe someday it would work in her favor?

Finally emerging from her thoughts, she gave him a smile as he wiped away her tears.

“Thank you.” She tore her face away from his hand and back into his vest.

“Thank you so much.” He was still for moment before relaxing into his seat, pulling her as close as he could.

“For you Hanana . . . anything.”

Her heart blossomed with hope as she felt sleep approach her once more.


	2. One Mouth After

 

 

**_ Part 2: One Month After  _ **

_Help . . . please help me . . ._

_Unbearable heat. Blinding light. Someone yelling over the roar._

_A burning scarf in her hands, quickly disintegrating._

_No . . . no he can’t be._

_The scarf slipped through her fingers as ash, flames pouncing on her._

_No. NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!_

She screamed as she bolted upright. She nearly sprang to her feet, ready to bolt through the fire to escape, but something held her arms and torso in a vice grip. She struggled against it in terror for several seconds, until the flames faded from her vision and the concerned whispers next to her ear finally registered.

She blinked her eyes, taking in the peaceful, warm setting of the mansion’s sitting room. Instead of a chaotic inferno, the room was lit only by a single lamp next to her, the embers of a once roaring fire nestled in the giant fireplace, and the hundreds of twinkling, color lights woven into a giant tree in the corner of the room.

Garland and candles decorated the fireplace mantle. Reefs and homemade décor adorned the walls and snow could be seen falling gently in the night outside the glass wall, long icicles hanging with strings of white lights high above against the glass outside.

The cheerful surroundings pushed the nightmare back and brought forth the memories of the day before her accidental slumber.

It was Christmas Day and the day had been very joyous . . . and very tiring. Hanana had gotten little sleep that night, but was determined to wake up early for her friends despite her tired mind. Everyone had woken up, spent most of the morning opening gifts, messing around with each other, and eaten a brief breakfast before journeying into town to attend celebrations held by some local businesses. The corps, along with Samama, Kabobo, and Pururu and excluding Robobo (snow didn’t mix well from him), spent the early afternoon admiring the decorative sights and holiday music festivals.

Already in high spirits from unwrapping gifts, it wasn’t long into the festivities before the younger members of the corps joined a snowball fight with some local kids. And from there, in one way or another, nearly the whole group was dragged into a massive snowball fight, its intensity forcing the town’s children to run for their lives and leave the strange people to it. The game started as team-based with teams of two: Putata and Mekeke, Nuii and Gyororo, Samama and Kabobo, Pururu and Kagege, Giruru and Dokuku (by members taking turns being possessed for him), and, by accident, Yukiki and Hanana. Yukiki and Giruru took some convincing to join in, or in this case some ‘accidental’ snowballs to the face, but once they were in, the others soon found themselves in trouble. The two proved to be very aggressive players, especially when looking for revenge.

At first, the competition was mainly between Putata and Mekeke, and Giruru and Yukiki, but soon it turned into a free-for-all. Hanana had never laughed so hard in her life, witnessing throughout the game the near constant looks of surprise and overdramatic reactions to snowball bullseyes. In the end, no one really proved to be the victor, although no one could deny that Yukiki was dominating by the time they picked themselves out of the snow laughing and began the journey back home.

Upon the return, most of them began the process of preparing dinner, with Hanana becoming head of baking the cakes, cookies, and other desserts. After a few hours, they all were sitting in the dining room eating from platters of delicious food and laughing with each other. For an organization of assassins and just as deadly allies, they sure did look like one, big family. At this time of year, even the grumpiest members of the corps tried being more tolerant of others. A lot had changed in just a few years and Hanana hoped it would stay this way, happy and friendly.

After dinner, they had all relaxed in front of the fire in the sitting room, trying out their gifts, telling stories, listening to Christmas music from the stereo, or simply watching the snow fall outside. Hanana had ended up sitting next to Yukiki on one of the couches. She had become quite shy around him since her realization of her feelings towards him. So much so that she panicked when she nearly got caught under the mistletoe with him, but made a quick escape before anyone could notice. Not that she didn’t want to kiss him. She had caught herself daydreaming about such several times since that night. Just . . . not like that. Not being forced and teased into it.

Despite her nervousness around him, she took a seat next to him and soon found herself rather comfortable, listening to the others and telling her own stories here and there. Before long, the little sleep she had gotten the night before caught up with her and she vaguely remembered leaning against Yukiki’s shoulder exhausted . . . before opening her eyes to smoke and tragedy.

Now the room was empty of the lively company and the contained fire was slowly dying, the sound of Christmas carols in the background clearly lowered. She shivered, trying to slow her breathing, and confirmed to herself that what was trapping her to her seat was a pair of cold arms. Knowing what that meant, she went limp against his chest and turned her head to look at the comforting presence.

As usual, the snowman was dressed in his dark blue top hat and coat, gloves and all. The only differences from his usual attire were the inclusion of a sprig of holly on his hat, a tradition he checked constantly for a spontaneous transformation into mistletoe as of last year’s incident . . . and a new scarf, gifted from her. It was a richer shade than his previous scarf, a deep royal blue, and along the entire length were silver, glittering patterns of windy swirls and intricate snowflakes.

She had bought the materials for it the day after she was released from the hospital, when Putata and Mekeke dragged her out shopping. She had worked on the scarf for weeks, carefully designing and sewing the patterns of reflective, silver thread onto the silky scarf. She had been so thrilled when he replaced his old scarf with it after unwrapping it . . . and spending a few moments staring between the gift and her.

So there it was, wrapped around his neck, its silver snowflakes and wind patterns sparkling in the dim light. Seeing her gift to him warmed her deaccelerating heart and reminded her of his own gift to her. Her hand rose to touch it. He had given her a beautiful necklace of blue crystal petals with a pink rose centerpiece. At her question of where he had found it, he had made a quick comment of the gems being highly concentrated perma-ice he had created from dyed water, all put together by a local jeweler.

He had put it on her at her request and her heart leapt when it fell into place against her chest, going well with her current sky blue dress. She would always cherish the beautiful treasure.

Clenching the ice rose, she gathered comfort from its chilled touch and raised her eyes higher to look him in the eyes. And as she expected, Yukiki had a worried look on his face and upon meeting his eyes, he relaxed his arms and lightly cupped a hand to her cheek.

“You are having nightmares again?” At his question, she lowered her head shamefully, feeling as if it was her fault the nightmares had come back. Her hand dropped from her necklace to clench his coat sleeve.

“I thought they were gone, but . . . I guess not.” She thought Kagege’s therapy and Pururu’s homemade ‘remedy for nightmares’ had vanquished the dreams, having been nightmare-free for nearly two weeks. Maybe it had been foolish to think she was over the fire.

She looked back up at Yukiki, remembering all the times he had been there for her since the loss of her home. He had listened at every nightmare she had to describe, helped her try to overcome them and now . . . he had become part of the nightmare. The thought made her flinch and tighten the grip her hands had on his sleeve. Of course, Yukiki caught it.

“What was this one like?” He knew her nightmares were always about the fire and that talking about her dreams helped in her recovery. It had become routine by now for him to ask after a nightmare. And like every other time, she answered.

“It was the same as the last one.” It was the truth, but she withheld the addition to this dream, an addition that made her heart ache when she looked at him. She shut her eyes in frustration at the feeling.

“Why are they back? I was so happy today. I didn’t even think about . . .” She sighed when her mouth refused the words, not wanting to remind herself of the fire anymore then she had to. She opened her eyes and looked around the room, noting the absence of the lively crowd and the dimmed atmosphere of the room.

“Where is everyone? How long was I asleep?” Yukiki was the next to sigh as Hanana leaned away from him and released his sleeve. She watched as his arms released her and he reached for the thick, leatherback book Kagege had given him, open on the arm of the couch. As he marked the page and closed it, he answered her.

“After you fell asleep, everyone else started getting tired as well. They all went off to their rooms and Samama, Kabobo, and Pururu went home. They told me to tell you Merry Christmas by the way. They left around three hours ago. It’s about 11:20 now.” Hanana’s eyes widened at how long it had been and was quick to apologize.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, um, fell asleep on you and keep you here!” He was shaking his head the moment she said ‘sorry.’

“Don’t be. I noticed this morning that you were tired and today’s activities likely did not help. You needed the rest and I wasn’t going to deny you that. Besides, I’ve made good progress.” He lazily shook the book in emphasis before placing it beside his old scarf, folded on the side table. He turned back to her.

“But I am sorry that your sleep was not as peaceful as I had hoped. I don’t know why you are having these dreams again, but they will eventually fade away. Give it time. I do.” Hanana had lowered her head, nodding slowly to his advice, before jerking up in realization. She looked at him extraordinarily.

“Do . . . do you mean you have nightmares too? I-I mean . . . I just thought . . . well, um . . . that nothing really scared you? I mean, you never really seemed . . . ah . . .” She blushed in embarrassment at her childish belief that he wasn’t afraid of anything. Everyone had fears. She even believed in the old saying, ‘If you’re not scared, you’re not alive.’ True, she couldn’t remember ever seeing Yukiki afraid before. Nervous, but never afraid. She felt absolutely foolish. That was happening a lot around him lately.

It didn’t help that Yukiki froze at her question and his expression began to darken. She sat stiffly beside him, nervously awaiting his answer. All was silent for a full minute and she jumped slightly when he spoke up.

“I had several in the first few months of my employment with Shurara. I never could remember much of them after awakening, so they didn’t cause me much trouble. They stopped after a while and I have not had nightmares since. At least . . . until recently.” At the mention of recent dreams, Hanana quickly became the one concerned, forgetting her troubles to tend to his. She moved back closer to him and gently grasped his upper arm.

“What are your nightmares about?” They both noticed the obvious role reversal and Yukiki couldn’t stop the bittersweet chuckle escaping his throat.

“I don’t think hearing about my dreams would be very helpful for either of us. They don’t bother me much anyway. And besides . . .” His eyes seemed to darken and a deep frown replaced his gentle smile before he turned his head away. “. . . my fears should not be a concern of yours. Fear **_is_** but a cautionary instinct. Useful, but can become a liability.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a stern but gentle warning in his gaze. “. . . like yours.”

Hanana felt hurt, but not from his warning. It hurt her that he did not trust her with his night terrors when she always told him hers. He had played off his fears, yet took hers seriously. No nightmare was a good thing and a reappearance of them was not something to be ignored. If he was having nightmares, why couldn’t he let her help him like he had done for her?

Maybe . . . maybe he just wasn’t ready. Maybe he didn’t trust her enough yet or he didn’t want to burden her with his problems. She knew she had felt that way at times.

She moved a bit closer and gently encircled her scarred arms around him in a hug. He stiffened, but she had grown to expect the reaction by now.

 “I . . . I think you’re right. But I just want you to know that I care about you. I’ll always be willing to listen if you have anything to say. I want to help you and I can keep a secret if need be.” She gave him a small squeeze and waited, hoping he would open up to her.

He remained silent, staring blankly off to the side. The only sound was the low melody of ‘White Christmas’ from the speakers.

Disheartened, she sighed and slowly removed her arms to stand up. His eyes snapped up to her as she stepped away from the couch. She turned to him with a reassuring smile, her eyes avoiding his.

“Anyway, thanks for staying up for me. It was very kind of you. Well . . . good night.” She turned away and walked towards the archway leading to the lobby. She had gotten only a few feet when her ears caught his faint response over the light music, a nearly sad sounding whisper.

“I was scared that night.” She stopped, half in disbelief and half in relief. She turned back to him and found him bent forward with his weigh on his elbows, eyes trained straight down at his feet. He looked exhausted, but she wasn’t sure it was physical.

Seeing his conflicted expression, she walked back to the couch, approaching slowly as if not to startle him.

“The night . . . of the fire?” He give a single, small nod. She slowly sat back down beside him, intent on encouraging him to talk.

“Why?” She had a good idea of the answer, but she had to confirm it.

He huffed at her question, barely a laugh.

“Why? Because . . . because . . . I thought . . . I . . . I was going to lose you.” Despite it being expected, hearing his response still sent a shock through her, but heartbreak quickly replaced her surprise. Even more so when her brain connected the dots. It confirmed her fears. She asked her question again.

“W-What are your nightmares about, Yuki?” He remained silent for a moment, but the time for silence seemed to be over. He took in a breath.

“They’re . . . they are about you. But . . . also about me. And . . . things going wrong and . . . *sigh*” He couldn’t seem to continue, but Hanana could fill in the blanks. She wrapped her arms around his torso, holding on tightly as she tried to keep her tears at bay.

“Oh Yuki, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I . . .” She didn’t know what to say. He was worried about her and didn’t want to lose his friend. He nearly had that night.

She understood how he felt. She understood him completely. Her nightmare was proof of that. She shivered at the memory of the dream. He had been there, trying to protect her. But the flames had been invincible. The inferno engulfed him before her eyes and he disappeared, leaving nothing but his charred scarf. A scarf emblazoned with sliver flicks.

The memory was the final straw for her tears and they flowed freely done her cheeks as a hollow sense of grief filled her.

“I know.” She whispered brokenheartedly amongst the low cheery music. “I know.”

He didn’t seem to hear her whispers, trapping in his own inner turmoil.

“Sorry? No. I’m the one who should be sorry. Hanana . . .” He lifted his head and pushed away her arms, holding her shoulders at length to move away a bit. But despite the distance he put between them, he looked her in the eyes as he confessed.

“It’s . . . it’s my fault you were nearly killed. It’s my fault you lost your home.” She stared at him, confused. Tears continued their trails as she sat gawking at him.

“The man I killed. He was a high value target whose contract was my responsibility, given to me a few months before you came along. I made a crucial mistake on my mission and he got away. He made a fool of me while he was at it, too. He was the flaw in my perfect record and it infuriated me. I . . . I let my pride get the best of me. I hunted him for over a year, snuffing out his subordinates and sabotaging his operations. I was under no orders and during that time I had plenty of opportunities to take him out.” Yukiki tightened his grip on her shoulders and bared his teeth.

“But I wanted to destroy everything he had before I ended his life, wanted to make him squirm as everything crumble around him! I wanted him to wish he had not made a fool of me that day. And so, I became his most hated enemy. He began hunting for me. But not just to kill me. He wanted to make me suffer as well. So he started searching for my weaknesses. His search must not have been successful, because he quickly abandoned stealth and started sending goons after me and the others a few times.”  His hands had released Hanana’s shoulders during the tale and were currently being clenched in his lap, his body and eyes now turned away from her to face forward.

“They were always dispatched. After a while, he disappeared and I lost interest in my vendetta against him.  I had thought him dead or having fled the land. However, he resurfaced over a year later. He had . . .” His expression was torn, half angry and half ashamed as he told her all this. And then, she saw it change into a pained frustration.

“He had found you.” He closed his eyes, unable to look at her even in his peripheral vision.

“Somehow, he found out that you were . . . a close friend of mine . . . and used you to get to me. He had found the weakness he was looking for. And he tried to burn you alive, purposely using fire to mock me.” His eyes opened to glare into the coffee table in front of them, giving a look as if it was he was mentally interrogating it.

“I don’t know why, but I was so restless that night. I couldn’t stay still. So I went out for a walk, hoping to tire myself out. And when I saw your house in flames . . . I . . . I was . . .” She saw his body shook in a shiver and she reached forward to place a hand on his shoulder.

“The entire house was engulfed in flames. For a moment I thought . . .” He exhaled sharply, then turned his head back to her for his eyes met hers again, a spark of determination in their soft glow.

“But I had to try. You . . . you are too important to me . . . uh, to all of us.” A barely noticeable blush appeared on his face and his eyes darted away from hers nervously before returning.

“If there was a chance that you were still alive, I had to take it.” He went silent, the rest of the story already known. There was only the music as she stared at his prone form, taking in all he had said.

He was clearly nervous and mentally exhausted from revealing his burden. There was a barely restrained fidget to his hands and a faint blush was painted below his narrowed eyes, now staring into her lap.

Hanana squeezed his shoulder as she wiped away her tears, hoping to comfort him while giving him space. She smiled softly at him as she used her empty hand to gently pull his face back up to make eye contact.

“And here I am. Alive and safe, because of my hero.” Yukiki was still for a moment, studying her. His eyes drifted down to her arms, catching sight of the scars still left behind by the fire. Some would likely never fade, forever staining her once flawless skin. Forever a reminder of her pain . . . and his influence on her life. If she wasn’t burned by his enemies, his very nature would sap the life from this flower with an icy cold.

He clenched his teeth at the wave of self-hate that invaded his body. He nearly spat out his reply.

“Your hero? That’s a joke. It is more accurate to say that I am your doom.” He pulled her hand away from his face and placed it firmly in her lap and released it. He tried to pull away, but Hanana’s hand was latched onto his shoulder. He tried shrugging her off as he continued.

“You were nearly killed because of my compulsion to play with my catch, to even a ridiculous score. You were, and are, in danger because you ally yourself with ASSASSINS!”

He was getting angry and his eyes were glowing with the frustration building from her determination to not let go of him, both literally and figuratively. His conflicting desires for her to leave or to stay had been eating at him since the fire and it was starting to enrage him how stubborn she was being with the choice. Anyone else would be quickly retreating from his growing rage. But no matter how much he argued, no matter the evidence, she refused to remove herself from his life, from the Corps. And here she was, at his side, unafraid with a gentle smile. Her other hand reached up to grab an iron hold of his arm and Yukiki weakly snarled at the added shackle.

“I’ve known the dangers of your lives since the day I first stepped foot in this place; for yourselves and anyone any of you get close to. But I made my choice then and it remains the same now. All of you are my friends, my family. There are some things are just worth the risks.” She leaned closer as he glared at the floor, completely missing the loving look she was giving him.

“Trust me Yuki. You are more than worth it. That night was not your fault. That night, you truly were my hero. And you always will be.” Yukiki continued burning a hole in the floor, but his anger was slowly dying. Soon, he sighed in defeat and lifted his gaze back to her. She felt her smile fall at his sad expression.

“Hanana. I appreciate your compassion, but I cannot see how any of us could be worth your life. How **_I_** could be worth your life.” Without looking away, he began to gently remove her hands from his arm.

“Yuki . . .”

“I am physically harmful to you, Hanana.” He interrupted her, expression become more serious and sad.

“I could kill you with one, accidental wave of my hand. You cannot even hug me long before you risk becoming sick. The very purpose of my creation and form is to end lives.” Finally prying her hands off, he released her and prepared to remove himself from the couch, turning away to retrieve his book and scarf. 

“But Yuki, I’ve told you before that I don’t mind that you’re a snowman! And I know you would never hurt me!” She stood up as he did, determined to reason with him.

“You may not be able to help what you are, but YOU decide WHO you are! It’s who you are that I really care about! You’re more than a killer, Yuki! You chose that! You chose to be a better person!” She lunged forward and captured himself in a fierce hug.

“A true killer kills whoever they please, with no remorse or compassion. A true killer doesn’t care about the weak or the old, friends or family! A true killer LIVES for the kill and suffering.” Hanana lifted her head from his chest to give him a half-hearted smirk.

“You don’t. None of you do! I’ve seen it. You protect the young and respect the old. You never touch the innocent. The streets are safer because your efforts, despite what the police say. This town, with all its families, is under your protection and they know it. Have you ever noticed that no one here has ever given up information on this mansion or anyone associated with it? Or that no one bats an eye at our strange group? And if there’s a stranger asking around, you all are the first to know.”

His blank expression lifted into slight surprise. He had noticed, but had never put much thought to it. He didn’t spend much time with civilians after all. But there had been more than a few instances in the last few years where random people would spark a friendly conversation or trade with him. Putata and Mekeke had once proved a list of homes that had been offered to them as safe houses if they ever got in a tight spot. Yukiki, ever suspicious, had never used them however.

Children were also very approaching, ever curious of him. They would follow him around, watching what he did and asking him questions. As uncomfortable as it made him, there was something gratifying about their awe-filled expressions and the fact that their caretakers didn’t hide them away in fear, like they once did.

“It’s because they trust you. And they know there are good people here, despite the gruesome career. They feel **safe** living with **assassins**. And so do I. Safe and incredibly happy with the family I’m blessed with . . . with you.” Her warm smile and kind words were gradually dragging Yukiki out of dark thoughts, a small smile itching the corners of his mouth.

“That’s why I chose to be an ally to assassins. And nothing will ever change that.” She waited patiently as he absorbed her speech, slight changes to his facial expression hinting at the thoughts waging war on each other.

When Hanana makes a decision, she sticks to it like it’s an unbreakable vow. And as sweet as she was, this stubborn nature made sure that she was never one to be refused. It’s what gave her the ability to make friends with an entire group of mostly hardened assassins and soften them up while she was at it. So with just one little speech, she had made it clear to Yukiki that there was no chance of her leaving them behind. And she was happy with that.

Unable to refuse her argument, a smile broke on his downtrodden appearance, small and tired it may have been. A small chuckle left his lips, submissive and accepting, as he allowed the part of him that didn’t want her to leave to rejoice.

“No . . . no, I suppose nothing will.” He sighed. His arms slowly lifted to gently hug her back, keeping eye contact. After a brief moment of hesitation, Yukiki leaned forward until their foreheads touched, careful of his nose. His eyes closed and he breathed out, smile still present.

“Thank you, Hanana.”

His voice was warm and somewhat relieved. Hanana’s body froze the moment his head touched hers. She stared at Yukiki in surprise, not expecting such a form of affection from him.

Looking up at him, she studied his face. He looked tired, as if his few minutes of dreary thoughts had taken several nights from him. And yet . . . that small smile was very slowly leading his body to relax. To her, it gave the impression that he was coming to terms with something that had long haunted him. He was trying to give himself some peace.

She gazed at him with awe as he completely relaxed, that smile still there. She felt her own smile grow as her lovesickness made an appearance at his affection, rustling the butterflies in her stomach. She loved when he was happy and that smile was starting to tug at her heartstrings. She could feel the blush invading her cheeks as he opened his eyes.

That look he gave her. She could barely describe it, but it sent those butterflies into overdrive and started melting any coherent thoughts.

As he began lifting his head away, her body reacted and she dove forward.

A shock shot through them as their lips met.

Her eyes closed, Hanana concentrated on just feeling. Such as the odd but pleasant chill of his lips on hers or the butterflies leaving her stomach to spread through her veins.

She was sure she would have been lost in her affection, if she hadn’t noticed how still he had gone. At the realization, her eyes snapped open and she ripped herself away.

She stared at him wide-eyed, taking in his reaction with growing embarrassment and fear.

He was entirely frozen in place, not even breathing. His face was beet red and his pupils had shrunk into pinpricks. She was shocked to see ice rapidly forming on her gifted scarf, the cuffs of his coat, and gloves. His book and scarf were now abandoned on the floor. To Hanana, he looked mortified. And now so was she, her previous calm shattered.

Yet another humiliating moment where she had let her emotions get the better of her.

She leaped away out of his frozen arms, more than ready to make a run for it. Her face was completely red as she covered it with her hands.

“I-I’m . . . I’m sorry. I—!” With no favorable excuse, she turned away, heading once again for the exit at a fast pace. She could feel tears forming behind her eyes, thinking it truly was another Giruru incident. Only worse.

She reached a hand out to grip the frame of the archway to steady her uneven stride when a large hand grabbed her arm and spun her around.

When her eyes met the fierce glow of his irises, she immediately lowered hers, submissive in her fear and shame. His ice-free hands latched onto her shoulders and held her in a steel trap.

“Hanana.”

She flinched at her name in such a serious tone. Did she cross a line? Could those stories about love confessions and impulsive kisses ruining friendships really be true? She didn’t think she could handle it if it was true for this. She was certain she couldn’t.

His gloved hand came up and grabbed a hold of her chin, pulling her face to his. His eyes’ shine had died down, but still possessed an unwavering luminance. His countenance was still serious, but his gaze had softened, picking up on her fear quickly.  

“Why did you kiss me, Hanana?” It was a question, but to Hanana it could easily have been an accusation. She tried her hardest to not respond, to somehow silently convince him to let her go.

Yukiki wasn’t one to give up. His stubbornness could rival her own and it had given him both triumphs and ramifications in his career and small social life.

But mostly triumphs.

His unrelenting character worked to his advantage here. It was seconds before she crumbled under his gaze, leaning a bit against him as she gave up.

“B-Because . . . I . . . I think I . . .” She swallowed nervously, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see him and his calculating eyes. A bit of courage was the reward of her cowardice. Enough to begin a confession. If the stories were true and he didn’t return any feelings, the kiss had already thrown a wrench into their friendship. Might as well give him the reason behind the throw, an excuse for forgiveness.

 “No, I **know** . . . that I . . .” She took a deep breath. She tried to collect her previous confidence and calm.

“. . . that I’m in love . . . with you.” The near painful spike of strength to his grip on her shoulder broke the dam holding back the flood and what little confidence she had disappeared. She began confessing to the point of begging, like her very life was being threatened. And she couldn’t stop.

“I-I only figured it out that night after the hospital, but I-I-I think I’ve felt this way for a while. You’re just . . . you’re practically my best friend and you’ve always been there for me ever since the first time you ate cake with me. You’ve always protected me and I’ve always felt safe with you.” She screwed her eyes tighter, unable to control the rabble she was fast sinking into.

“Y-You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart, and you’re sweet even though you refuse to admit it. You protect your friends. You watch out for them. You play with Nuii and Dokuku!” Tears had started to run down her cheeks, the uncertainty of how this would end driving her emotions higher.

“I enjoy our walks and talks. I love baking cakes just to see your reaction! I adore your smile, your voice, your eyes . . . And-and I-I always thought a living, breathing snowman was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen!” She laughed though her tears to her next train of her most inner thoughts.

“I think your magic is beautiful!” A small hiccup escaped her as she started to tremble.

“You don’t want to lose me, but I’m terrified of losing you! I don’t know what I would do if . . . I . . . I just can’t.” Her rabbling nearly stopped at the grim thoughts, tears streaming faster with the thought of never seeing him again. Just like in the dream. But her thoughts continued to force their way out.

“B-But . . . I will never regret meeting you, meeting any of you! The last few years have been some of the best of my life! I don’t care how dangerous your lives are! You guys are my family . . . ever since my parents died, I . . .” Her voice started to shut down, small hiccups infecting her voice.

“I-I-I-I . . . I w-wouldn’t trade you all for the world. But you will al-always be . . . the o-one I am most grateful for. You’ve done so-so much for me and shown me things I never thought possible! You taught me how to ice-skate. H-how to make the perfect snowball. I-I know now that the wind really does have colors! That ice can create and save, not just d-d-destroy! Because of you, the cold doesn’t bother me much anymore!” Hanana’s forehead gently settled on Yukiki’s chest, her words physically exhausting her.

“Y-You showed me beauty and wonder where I once saw dullness and lifelessness.” She swallowed, breathless and afraid as she gave her last confession as a whisper.

“You made me love Winter.”

She went completely still, eyes still closed, and her mind going blank after the tidal wave of thoughts that had left through her mouth. All she could hear now was the low Christmas music and her heavy breathing.

Yukiki had become a statue, still and silent, and his silence killing her inside. The seconds built up as his hold did not waver, denying her the escape she was becoming desperate for.

What was he going to do?

“To care that much for someone like me, you must be completely and utterly insane.”

Her eyes shot open in dismay, but he quickly made his move. She yelped when his hand quickly pulled her face up to his as he tilted his head, nearly smashing their lips back together.

A shiver ran up and down her spine. She stared wide-eyed at him, his eyes closed and eyebrows down in determined concentration with a clear blush on his cheeks. His cold lips moved slightly against hers and that was all it took to snap her out of her shock.

She closed her eyes and flung her arms around his neck as she returned the kiss, nearly knocking him back. He was quick to recover from the sudden jump, bracing his feet and moving his arms to her waist and back to hold her securely against him. From there, both tried their best to pull the other as close as possible, finding a desperation they didn’t know they had for each other. The thought of losing the other was still fresh in both their minds.

When they finally pulled away, Hanana’s heart was racing a thousand miles a minute on the warm and happy feeling coursing through it, destroying the earlier fear and despair. A bright blush adorned her face and her breathing was slowly steadying. A smile was starting to grow quickly on her chilled lips as she opened her eyes to the man of her affections.

Yukiki’s reaction to the kiss wasn’t much different from hers. His icy heart also raced beneath her palms now on his chest, seemingly overheating at the unfamiliar overload of emotions. A blush was prominent on his face, a now common feature, and his eyes opened to hers in a clash of shining blue and burning pink.

He returned her smile and brought his hand at her cheeks to wipe the remaining tears away, widening his smile as she leaned into his touch.

“You truly are a strange one, Hanana.” She giggled at his statement, eyeing him playfully.

“What is that supposed to mean?” His smile somehow became even softer and his eyes held his own laughter with no uncertainty or guilt left. She felt herself fall a little bit more.

“It truly is remarkable that you think so highly of me.” His thumb stroke her cheek. Her hands gripped his coat tightly at the feeling.

“It’s really not that hard! I can teach you, if you want.” She winked at him as his blush deepened briefly, his hand leaving her face. She laughed and took the chance to bury her face in his new scarf, hugging him tightly as her ear caught the sound of his galloping heartbeat. He chuckled and hugged her back, his cheek resting against her head.

“Well, perhaps it is because of your stubborn form of kindness that I may be worthy of any of your praise. Many things have changed since you arrived.” They stood that way for a while, listening to the light music of ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You.’

Hanana hummed to the song happily, nearly laughing at the perfect timing of it. Yukiki noticed and, to her surprise, hummed along with her. She pulled her head away to look up at him, delighted. He ducked his head a bit, suddenly bashful. She laughed, overjoyed to see such a brighter side of him.

Was it truly because of her? At the thought, now she was getting bashful.

Trying to shake it off, she decided to play around with him. Fighting back her rising blush, she quickly dove in and kissed his jaw. As expected, he froze and she nearly did too, but she forced herself out of his embrace . . . and took his hat along with her.

He stood there, dazed and confused, as she pranced away from him towards the door way, placing the top hat on her own head and twirling her dress around with a laugh. The hat barely fit, but she don’t care as she played with the scarf flaps. She turned back to face him . . . and squealed when she found him right in front of her, his approach lightning quick and completely undetected. She cursed his hunter traits before he swooped her up bridal style and carried her back to the couch, herself struggling playfully as she squealed for him to let her go.

He obliged, abruptly but carefully, dropping her onto the cushions.  She lay there stunned, then glared at him from under his hat after a quick recovery. He quickly snatched said hat off her head before she could grab a defensive hold of it. She sat up to retaliate, but he cut her off with a quick kiss. Her heart barely had time to flutter by the time he pulled back. He smirked at her, still lightly blushing, and walked away to retrieve his fallen items. He was still smirking when he returned, book, scarf, and hat in hand.

“You, Hanana, were never meant to be a thief.”  She pouted as he sat down beside her, crossing her arms as she faked another glare. Another blush had made an appearance, steadily growing with her current thought path.

“I could too if I tried!” The snowman raised an eyebrow at her sudden childish behavior, items safely placed on his opposite side.

“Oh? And of what purpose is this sudden compulsion to become a petty criminal?” On cue, her blush deepen and her eyes darted nervously before looking him straight on.

“So I can be a master at stealing kisses from you. . .” To say he was stunned by her boldness on this kind of subject was an understatement. His mind finally short-circuited at the comment, after all that had happened. He mouth hung open, a response nonexistent in his head.

Hanana fell backwards on the couch, rolling with laughter at his expression. His stiff form gradually thawed, but he still gawked at her. This whole evening was unknown territory for him, completely confusing and unexpectedly pleasant. But that did describe the basic experience of whenever he was around her. All the strange emotions she gave him, from the very start, had been such: confusing and frustratingly enjoyable. He didn’t understand them then and he barely understood them now.

But he’d be damned if he wasn’t incredibly happy right now. A few years ago he would have scuffed at the idea of being happy to have a female laugh at him. He would have completely ignored, or maybe frozen, the person to tell him he would one day care enough for said woman to have a need to protect her with his life; a concept he had long found illogical, unnecessary, and just plain stupid.

Puzzled by the idea, he had been sure he would never succumb to the idiocy of putting his life on the line for another.

Well . . . now he had done it time and time again, for her and their friends. Was he an idiot now? Maybe. Her gasping laughter and his dumbstruck position in this situation was good proof of that.

But she was worth it. He had learned some time ago that she was. He now understood the reason behind the idiocy.

He was in way over his head, but nothing could be done against it. Especially not now. Despite his fears. She had seen to that.

By the time his train of thought was back from its detour, Hanana’s laughter had died down into heavy breathing with the occasional snicker. She wiped tears from her eyes, glancing up at him happily.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Your–your face was just so--!” He lunged at her and she squeaked as he pulled her upright and against him, his face inches from hers. His confidence had returned in force, a sudden, but familiar, dominant air surrounding him.

“I must say, your mission shouldn’t be too difficult. Novice even. But as a precaution, would you like to practice?” Now it was his turn to be bold. He wore a smirk at Hanana’s blushing, but the grin vanished under her lips as she surprised him with an abrupt kiss. He hadn’t expected her to respond so quickly.

Her lips were gone before he could return the favor and she smirked back at him. Yukiki blinked, then smirked as well, both of them still blushing.

“Well done.” She giggled merrily at his praise. She had never imagined he could be the flirting type, but she couldn’t deny that she was starting to live for his teasing. A new feature to love him for.

She scooted closer to him, pressing against his side. He wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. She sighed blissfully, relaxing after such an emotional rollercoaster of a night.

“You know . . . today being Christmas . . . shouldn’t kissing happen under mistletoe?” She pointed out absent mindedly. She leaned forward to look past Yukiki to his hat.

“Did Putata and Mekeke give you any?” Seeing the object of her attention, the man grunted, eyes turning a bit steely.

“I haven’t let those two anywhere near me today. ESPECIALLY near my hat.” The girl covered her mouth to smother more oncoming giggles. She then moved her hands to his coat sleeve, gaining back his attention.

“It’s fine. It was just a thought. No need to get riled up. Besides, there’s no reason to avoid mistletoe on your hat anymore.” She smiled sweetly at him, then snuggled back comfortably into his side. She felt the rumble as he chuckled.

“I suppose not. Their so-called ‘encouragement’ prank is rendered useless if their victim is already courting their trap piece.” He paused and looked down at her, his nervousness returning to annoy him once again.

“That is . . . if you will have me.” She looked up at him, eyes soft and loving. The snowman could have sworn his insides were melting. And not at all in a painful way. Exact opposite.

“Yes, Yuki.” His heart raced at her reply, but his doubts still persisted. He had to make sure.

“Are you absolutely certain? There are many things I can never do for you. I cannot keep you warm. I cannot easily go anywhere with you where it is above a certain temperature. I am not even sure if I can--”

“Yukiki.”

A finger placed firmly on his mouth shut him up very quickly.

“I already know all of this and yes, I’m sure. There is nothing I would want more.” He stared at her, taking in her answer. Then he smiled. And Hanana was in awe at the adoration in his eyes. All for her.

He leaned his head down and she reached up, meeting in a soft and lingering kiss. They parted to breathe and quickly lost themselves in each other’s eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Yuki.”

The snowman held the flower girl tighter, laughing breathlessly at how merry his Christmas had indeed become. He watched as she laid a hand on his scarf, tracing the patterns she had crafted herself. He glanced at her necklace in return, even now feeling the pieces of his power he had forced into the delicate shapes. As he would treasure the scarf, he would treasure even more so the Christmas gift he had so longed for in his arms.

“Merry Christmas, Hanana.”

They sat there for the rest of the night, watching the snow and asking each other questions they could never ask before, enjoying each other’s company. Sleep pulled at them both, but they resisted it to revel in the moment of peace and affection.

They quietly laughed at the occasional silly question, or melted at a heartfelt answer.

“You truly think my power is . . . beautiful?”

“When you’re happy, it’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen.”

* * *

 

The action was clearly over. Now they were just talking, not as interesting anymore.

Calling it quits, a cloaked figure quickly snuck out, not wanting to be caught now that Yukiki wasn’t as distracted. Experience had taught him that the snowy assassin had a knack for sensing a presence. And there would be hell to pay if Yukiki had paid attention to anything but Hanana.

Once at a safe distance, the figure took out the pictures he had snapped, sorting through them for the juicy ones. He had arrived just in time to see Yukiki pull the girl by the chin into a kiss and had been quick to hide and document their every move from there. Smiling devilishly, he made his way to his room. He couldn’t wait to tell everyone that the wait was over.

But how to tell them? Definitely tomorrow and definitely loud and proud. Let the love birds have their peace tonight before the explosion.

For his plan, he would need the whole night anyway.

One last pull over the iceman’s head.

Then, if Yukiki was good and didn’t use his body for ice sculpture target practice, he would leave the two to their lovey-dovey business from now on.

Maybe . . .


End file.
